An Unexpected Turn
by CNJ
Summary: When Harry is 21 & about to graduate from college, he gets news from a past he thought had been buried when he was 15. Strong language. Complete!
1. The News

The usual disclaimers that none of the characters that Harry Potter fans recognize are mine; neither are the places and other names that fans recognize; they all belong to the wonderful JK Rowlings, who brought the dear Harry into our world. Thank you so much, JK, for bringing us the sheer joy of knowing Harry! 

In this one, Harry is twenty-one and two months away from graduating from college. He's almost ready to become an auror, class b. it's here that he has an unexpected event that once again changes his life. Thanks so much for reviewing my other stories, all who were brave enough to read and review! Hope you all enjoy this story!   
  
  
  


**An Unexpected Turn**

_By_: CNJ 

_PG-13_

**1: The News**

**Harry**: 

"It's a very good thing you know how to dance as well as play the bariol and violin, Harry," my roommate, Trevor Robinson tells me. I silently lift an eyebrow as my roommate elaborates. Music is very hard to get into professionally, so it's good to have ballet on the side; there are more openings for positions in that field. He's right. 

My main career, though, is auror, class B, which is the magical equivalent to a muggle barrister. Once I graduate from Andrews and Wallace, I will continue for another year in auror b school, then start practicing magical law. Music is more my back-up career if for whatever reason, the auror plan doesn't pan out. 

It's appropriate that Trevor and I are thinking about our futures since in two months, we will be graduating from Andrews and Wallace Arts College and starting real careers. For the past four years, Trevor and I have roomed together and been good friends. 

I remember now how stunned I was when I first met Trevor and saw how much he looks like me physically. He doesn't wear glasses like I do and his hair is dark brown instead of black like mine and his eyes are blue instead of hazel like mine, but the similarity in our facial features is very striking. People often think we're brothers. 

We have the same almond shape to our eyes, the same thick brows with almost no space between them, the same snub noses, and the same thin, rather curvy mouths. I never did suspect that there was someone in this world who looked like me, Harry Potter, except maybe my parents, who have been dead since I was a toddler. 

"I think I'll have better luck with script writing than with acting," Trevor continues. "I've applied for several positions in both the muggle and the magical world." Trevor is an actor and has performed professionally in several movies since his early teens. But the movie series he was working on ended and there are just not enough agents to sponsor teen actors, so Trevor is looking into script writing for a career. 

It's tough for teen actors to make it and I can see why many of them get involved in drugs and drinking. But Trevor has managed to stay out of that trap. Trevor is a muggle while I am a wizard and the college we attend is a mix of both. 

My parents were also witch and wizard and for secondary school I attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They were wonderful, yet scary years...I'd made a group of wonderful friends there...Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, who's Ron's younger sister, and Luna Lovegood. 

I go over to the dresser and pick up the framed picture I keep there. It's a magical photo and the five of us are waving from it with happy grins on our faces. The night we graduated almost four years ago. All of us are at different colleges now. 

As I gaze at the picture, stroking it lovingly with my thumb, Trevor pretends to sing to the radio, which is playing softly and begins gathering a pile of his dirty clothes scattered beneath his bed. Trevor is somewhat like me, yet is louder and more outgoing, while I am very quiet and reserved. He also has a dramatic streak, which is not surprising being the superb actor he is. 

My hand also wanders over the photo of my dear great-aunt Miranda, who's done a wonderful job raising me. I plan to head back to London, where I grew up; I'll be seeing Aunt Miranda. I also plan to rent a place near there, maybe near Diagon Alley or Godric's Hollow when I'm not traveling with the orchestra or with a ballet troupe. 

I slide out of my reverie and start working on my homework for the weekend. My side of the room is very neat, so I don't have to clear away clothing and other clutter the way Trevor often does. 

"Nos vemooos..." Trevor says with a dramatic wave as he exits the room loaded down with his clothes and detergent. I laugh and wave as he leaves. _Nos vemos_ is _I'll be seeing you_ in Spanish. 

It is about an hour later when two owls arrive. One is from Ron and in his letter, he's written that he's been accepted for a professional Quidditch position of a Chaser for the Baron Stars. _Way to go, Ron!_ I pen back and send the owl, Pig on its way. 

The other one is a tawny owl and it taps my back impatiently, then holds a black letter in my face. Oh, dear, I think with a swallow and take the letter, paying the owl with a small treat. Black envelopes are not good news in the magical world. I open it timidly, my heart hammering, silently willing it not to be bad news about any of my friends or my aunt. After trying to steady my shaking hand, I read,   


_Dear Mr_._ Harry Potter_:   
_ We must bring you the news that your aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon have been killed in a car crash_._ I know that it has been many years since you have had contact with the Dursleys, but we decided that you had the right to know since you are their only living relative besides their son Dudley_. _ Funeral services will be held this Sunday at one pm at Matthews Anglican Church_...   


The letter goes on to give an address and is from a neighbor of theirs. Not really directly since the Dursleys and their neighbors were muggles, but from reading further, she apparently contacted Hogwarts, which forwarded this letter to me through Hogwarts' Headmistress, Professor Minerva McGonagall. 

I sit for a long while, letting the news sink in. My aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon...what should I tell you about them? It's hard and before you pass a judgment on them, sit down and just hear this out...Petunia was my mum's older sister and because she was a muggle and Mum was a witch, Petunia felt very threatened by that and made life hell for Mum until mum left for Hogwarts at the age of eleven. But Petunia still gave Mum trouble whenever she'd come home for the summer holidays until Mum was fourteen and Petunia was nineteen and eloped with Vernon. 

I guess neither Vernon or Petunia understood the magical world and maybe were a little afraid of it. So they chose to stay ignorant. They had Dudley a few months before Mum and Dad had me. 

When I was a year and three months, an evil wizard by the name of Tom Riddle, commonly known as Voldemort broke into our house, which was in the neighborhood of Godric's Hollow and ruthlessly killed my parents. He was going to kill me too, but my dear mum...I still get a lump in my throat sometimes remembering first hearing this story...Mum hugged me and willed her love to infuse me to deflect Tom's evil curse and as she died, he incredible love saved my life that night. But I was left orphaned and crying. 

Voldemort's curse rebounded back into him and temporarily weakened him, so he had no choice but to flee from the house. It was the then-Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, my godfather, Sirius, Professor McGonagall, and Hogwarts' gamekeeper, Hagrid, who'd found me crying and clinging to my mummy's blouse, so they'd taken me back to Hogwarts for about two weeks. 

Unfortunately at the time, Aunt Miranda had been cursed with a memory-loss charm, so she couldn't claim me and they didn't know where she was anyway. So Vernon Dursley put in a claim, saying that he was my only family and falsified papers to claim me. So that's how I wound up living at the Dursleys for almost fourteen years until I was fifteen. 

Petunia didn't know about Vernon's scheme, so she'd been shocked to find me there in a basket outside her doorstep that November morning. I think they'd hoped if they forced me to live as a muggle and lied about my parents' deaths, I'd grow up a muggle. But I just was unable to fit into their straight and narrow "proper" world, so they had no patience with me and often ridiculed me. Several times, they'd yelled at me or beaten me. Their son Dudley was often cruel to me and they did nothing to stop him and Petunia spoiled him rotten. It was very similar to what my mum had to go through with Petunia. 

It got worse as I got older until I was fifteen and Vernon began badmouthing my parents as he often did and I got tired of it and told him to stop. He slapped me hard several times and there was a huge fight and I'd ended up running away. I was also in the throes of puberty, which made it all the worse. 

I had no idea where to head to, so I spent several terrifying days on the streets of Diagon Alley before Hagrid finally caught up with me and told me about Aunt Miranda, who by that time, recovered her memory and had been looking for me for some time. We were reunited and I went to live with her during holiday breaks. Aunt Miranda is a witch too and has an apartment and Godric's Hollow and finished raising me. I'll forever be grateful to her for taking me in. That summer was the last time I'd ever had contact with the Dursleys. 

It's hard to believe that now, here I am, debating whether to go to their funeral or not. Common sense tells me that I really ought not to go, that it would be foolish to waste any more time on a family that could not love me as I was, but some emotional part of me is urging me to go, since they are human beings and it is tragic when any human dies. At least, I should go see if Dudley or Vernon's sister Marge need anything. Just then, the door opens and Trevor is back, face flushed and breathing hard, hauling his now-clean clothes with him. 

"Oh, I'm sooo bloody glad to get this mess done with..." he starts, then peers at me, dropping his pile onto his dresser. "Harry...what is it?" his brows slant in worry. I show him the letter. I've never told anyone much about the Dursleys and how they treated me, but I get the feeling Trevor has a hint. 

"I was trying to decide whether to go..." My brows pull together in a worried frown. "Maybe Vernon's sister or their son might need some support...but I don't want to seem like a hypocrite." 

"It's possible that it could bring closure to you as well," Trevor hands the notice back to me. He somehow has a very good idea of what the Dursleys were like. "Harry...tell me something honestly and if it's too much, you don't have to answer...did you ever love the Dursleys?" 

"I'm..." I have to clear my throat just thinking about that question. For so long, I thought I really didn't, then I would feel guilty about it since I felt I ought to love them as my family if nothing else. And they were limited perhaps by circumstances beyond their control. 

I know now that in a way, Dudley was as much of a victim of this circumstances as much as I was. I know now that it was the bigotry that still exist unfortunately in this world that imprisons some people and my late aunt and uncle, I guess were two of them. I don't even feel angry at them any more; I used to sometimes when I was a teenager. 

"Perhaps..." I say softly. "I...used to want their love as a small child...even as I got older...it's really hard to say now...I guess I still wished they could have...maybe not been so small in thinking...I...don't know now." Trevor touches me gently on the back and I look up at him gratefully, silently thanking him for his support. I decide to go to pay some respects if nothing else. Maybe this funeral will help me figure out how I finally feel about them. 

More later 


	2. Surprises

**An Unexpected Turn**

_By_: CNJ 

_PG-13_

**2: Surprises**

**Harry**: 

It feels very strange being back in the muggle world for the first time in several years. But I go back to pay the Dursleys their last respects. I'm not even sure I'm wearing the right clothes, but they are dark and I manage to dig out muggle pants in black. It's a rather damp March day, threatening more rain, but the temperatures are mild for this time of the year. 

In the motel room where I'm staying in the London suburb of Surrey, I try to find something muggle-looking for a black top, but can't find one, so I must settle for a loose black cape and baggy gray shirt that goes with the cape. 

Peering into the mirror to comb my thick straight black hair, I see my brows slanted upward at the bridge of my nose, my right brow higher than my left. I try to relax them along with the rest of my body, but can't. Lines appear in the middle of my forehead, so I sigh and just brush my parted bangs over my forehead, push my round glasses up my nose, and leave for the funeral. 

There is a small crowd there and I follow them in. It is a muggle religious institution, so I try to be quiet and "proper" but I also feel nervous because I have never been in such a facility. 

People peer at me and I blush bright red, knowing that my top is not right for this funeral. I notice the other men are wearing short dark muggle jackets. I feel embarrassed and out of place with my black flowing cape and baggy shirt. I try to ignore the whispers and stares as I find a seat in the long benches, stumble coming down one bench and finally sit with a thunk. 

Someone turns to look at me and I recognize Dudley. He's thinner than he used to be, but otherwise his face is still the same, his dirty blond hair parted way down one side. I try to speak, but he sneers at me when he sees me. 

"Oh, it's you...Potter..." he spits. "Come to gloat over my parents' demise?" I'm a little shocked, especially since Dudley doesn't appear too upset over his parents' deaths himself. I open my mouth to try speaking again, but Dudley hisses, "Just save it, you ugly four-eyed little freak...I would have thought magic would have cured your nearsightedness..." 

"Dudley...I'm so sorry about your parents'..." I start, but Dudley glares. 

"Ohhh, save your pity speech, will you!" he snaps and turned forward as the service begins. I try to follow what the man in front is saying, but keep flashing back to my years with the Dursleys. I'm sorry that Dudley doesn't seem to have changed a bit. I see Aunt Marge several rows ahead, but she sits still and does not appear to be grieving. 

Most of what the man up front talking about is a lot of nonsense about a God somewhere up in the sky taking my aunt and uncle in and things that really didn't make sense like _The Lord givith and takith away_ and this "lord" being _mysterious and just_. 

I guess it makes sense to religious muggles who've brought up by this, but I don't really recall my aunt and uncle ever being religious. They'd said they'd believed in a god, but I don't recall them ever being in a place like this. Maybe this place is where muggles just bury their dead. I make a mental note to ask Trevor about it, if he knows anything about this...ritual since he is a muggle. 

I stare straight up front and try to ignore others' occasional glances at me. I know I look strange to them. I see two large boxes up front and at first wonder what they are, then I realize that they are muggle coffins with my aunt and uncle's bodies in them. 

A chill runs down my back thinking that their lives ended just like that...just like my parents' lives had twenty years ago. Staring at those coffins, then I glance at Dudley, then back at the coffins again, my heart thunking away. How fragile life is, I think. That's why you can't just fritter it away; life is too precious for that. 

I know my parents had held on to every precious moment that they'd lived and tried to teach me to do the same. And I try to; I hope I am doing my best. If only Dudley realized this too; he'd be so much happier. 

It's really a shame that Petunia and Vernon were so limited in their thinking and never allowed themselves to open their minds to new and unusual things. Mum could have brought so much into Petunia's life if only she'd let her, I thought feeling a small ache inside of me. 

But Petunia hadn't and both Mum and Petunia lost because of it. So had Vernon. Vernon and Petunia then passed this closed-mindedness onto their son and Dudley lost because of it...and was still losing. What a dreadful waste, I think sadly. 

There's still so much bigotry and intolerance and everyone loses because of it. The thought brings unexpected tears to my eyes. I duck my head, but I startle myself and everyone around me by dissolving into tears. I try to fight the tears back, but can't and they spill down my face. It's a good thing I know how to cry quietly. 

But others seem to sense my tears and turn to look at me, including Dudley. I try to bury my face into my cape, feeling very embarrassed at my emotional display. I feel very sad at the terrible loss...the love lost between the Dursleys and me, the beauty and warmth just wasted, thrown away. 

I did want to love them, but they didn't let me; they pushed me away because I was too different for their world. They just had no room for me. I have to take off my glasses at one point and clumsily wipe my tears away. 

Someone hands me a tissue and I whisper a sobbing thanks to her and keep crying, unable to stop for several minutes. By this time, almost everyone in my section is staring at me and it make me weep more. Dudley heaves a gusty sigh. 

It's so strange and bizarre that I am the only one crying, even though I probably would miss Vernon and Petunia the least of this crowd. I wish I could curl up under one of the benches until I can regain my composure, but something tells me that would not be a right move and I'd only make a bigger fool of myself than I already have. 

I struggle and bit by bit, pull myself together as a group of men carry the coffins out of the church. The crowd follows and I trail after them, putting my glasses back on. By then, I'm not crying as much, but silent tears still occasionally trickle down my face. 

"Why is _Harry_ crying of all people?" someone whispers. "How strange." 

"Yes, you'd think he'd be _glad_ they're gone after the awful way they treated him," I hear someone else whisper. 

"And Dudley hasn't shed a single tear," someone else adds as we make our way to a graveyard behind the church. I shudder involuntarily. Cemeteries really make me nervous, but I fight to stay calm as they are buried. 

I've had this fear of cemeteries since the end of my fourth year at Hogwarts when the same evil wizard who killed my parents lured a classmate of mine Cedric Diggory and me into a graveyard via portkey and killed Cedric right in front of me and used some of my blood to regain power. It had been very traumatic for me and it took me a long time to recover from that ordeal. 

Thank Merlin's stars Voldemort is gone now; a group of us...the Gryffindor house at Hogwarts, the Young Order of Phoenix, which my friends and I had been active in, and the Original Order of the Phoenix of adult witches and wizards defeated him for good in November of my seventh year when I was seventeen. 

It had been at a Gryffindor house retreat in a wooded area and we'd all surrounded him and chanted spells and songs until he'd lost most of his magical powers. One of the spells I'd chanted and taught the others had been a spell my mum had used to save my life the night she died. Once Voldemort...Tom Riddle had lost his powers, aurors class E had come, bound him up and taken him to Azkaban, where he'd spent the rest of his life. 

The defeat of Tom Riddle had been a huge victory and we'd had so many celebrations since Voldemort had terrorized the magical community for many years. But part of the mark left on me is my fear around graveyards. I wonder if I will ever get over this phobia. 

Thankfully, the burial is brief and we part ways. I start to walk back, away from Dudley, who is sneering at me and away from the whispers, eager to get back to the magical world by tomorrow morning. 

As I reach my motel, which is several blocks away, a voice calls, "Harry?" It is a tentative voice and familiar. I stop a minute and debate whether to answer. I turn and see Aunt Marge, Vernon's sister behind me, peering at me as if seeing my for the first time. It's the first time I ever remember her speaking kindly to me or calling me _Harry_ instead of _boy_. 

"May we...meet and talk?" My mouth opens and closes as I stare at her, not sure what to make of her request. I somehow get the feeling that she is sincere and nod. "How about dinner tonight?" she asks. 

"Do you know of any good places here?" I ask softly. 

"How about the Ritz Cafe just down here around the turn?" she asks, tentatively touching my arm. "I really thought it was good of you to come despite the way my brother and his wife treated you...and Harry...I am very sorry for my part in being so unkind to you as a child...I hope you can accept my apology..." she peers at me. I nod quietly. 

It's a pleasant surprise to see that perhaps Aunt Marge has changed for the better. It's a fragile peace at first, but we solidify plans to meet tonight at six at the Ritz Cafe as both of us have to change and shower first. 

Once Marge heads on down to wherever she's staying, I head upstairs in a daze. I get the feeling for the first time that more went on between Marge and the Dursleys than meets the eye. 


	3. New Beginnings

**An Unexpected Turn**

_By_: CNJ 

_PG-13_

**3: New Beginnings**

**Harry**: 

"Harry..." Marge salts her bangers and mash a little more as we eat that evening. "Part of the reason, I never stood up for you all those years ago was that Vernon had me cowed too." I nod and continue eating. "I tried not to show it, but when I was growing up, Vernon bullied me often, just the way I suspected Dudley bullied you." 

"Oh, Marge, I'm so sorry," I sip my cup of tea and wait for her to go on. 

"Vernon would do things like trip me, threaten me and he also teased me in front of classmates at school." Marge continues. "Mother and Dad never believed me when I tried to tell them; they'd say it was normal sibling rivalry. They rarely held Vernon accountable for his actions. He also bullied others in school and when notes came home about his bullying, Dad would brush it off and say that he didn't want a nicey-nancy son." 

"That's what Vernon would say about Dudley when notes were sent home," I say, remembering how Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia sought excuse after excuse for Dudley's rotten behavior. "It's exactly what my uncle used to say...Dudley bullied others in school. I'd try to stand up for them, but Dudley would turn on me and since he was so much bigger, I always wound up flat on my arse with a split lip or bruised cheek. Usually my glasses were broken. Do you remember how I had that thick tape around the nose of my glasses? That was Dudley." 

"I guessed that was it," Marge nods. "I was too cowardly to say anything when Vernon humiliated you and trashed your parents. I could see it hurt you and you tried to put on a front of bravado, but I could see your pain. If only I hadn't been so weak and stood up to your uncle." 

"Y-you couldn't control his behavior," I say, reaching out to touch her hand. "He would have turned on you and maybe kicked you out and never let you see your nephew again." 

"The truth is, by the time you and Dudley were pre-teens, I was finding Dudley repulsive too," Marge confesses. "Of course, I wasn't brave enough to confront them on that. Petunia barely tolerated me as it was. I must admit, I used to find your parents and you a bit strange, but recently, I've read up on wizardry and witchcraft and see that many good things are accomplished by them. I know now they're humans struggling to make their way in this world." 

"Oh, Marge, I'm so proud of you..." I say, my breath catching. It was so good of her to find out more about what she'd been ignorant about before! 

"Harry...can you ever forgive me for being so cruel to you all these years...especially the disgraceful way I trashed your parents in front you...and even when you weren't around?" Marge looks at me, really looks at me for the first time in my life, perhaps. 

"Yes, of course," I say and we hold hands for a long minute. 

"I deserved to get blown up that day back when you were around thirteen," Marge smiles ruefully. We both laugh softly as I remember that dreadful day when I was thirteen and getting ready to start my third year. 

Marge, Vernon, and Petunia had been in the kitchen raking my parents over the coals. Marge kept adding insult and after insult while heaping flattery on Dudley. I'd gotten so angry, I'd inadvertently used magic to expand her and float her to the ceiling. 

I swallow, then say, "Back then, you didn't know better...neither did I. But now both of us do and I'm willing to start again, carve a new path with us. Are you?" 

"Yes, dear..." Marge nods, her eyes moist. "Harry, Harry, you are so forgiving and gentle. So many others wouldn't have been so forgiving. Now I know what I fool I was and what I jewel I was missing out on. Do you suppose your great-aunt Miranda will mind me being a part of your life?" 

"I'm sure she won't," I reassure her as we finish eating. Aunt Miranda really doesn't know much about Marge, just that she was Vernon's sister, but I've never told Miranda about how Marge used to be. "I think she'll be happy to see you. Oh, Marge, it's so wonderful to have you as part of my family." 

"Me too," Marge agrees. "I'm sorry to say that Petunia and Vernon were never much of a family to me and neither is Dudley." The waiter comes by then and we order a chocolate mouse to split between us and more hot tea. 

"How is Dudley managing?" I ask. 

"Too well," Marge shakes her head. "He hasn't shed a tear or shown any sorrow...nothing. Now he's been talking about how he can get his hands on his uncle's money." 

"God..." I never fail to be flabbergasted at Dudley's attitude. "I also mean...how's he doing...in life in general? Is he working...did he ever finish school...?" 

"Barely working," Marge tells me as the mousse comes and we dig in. "Only at my insistence did he get a part-time job at a radio store, but I suspect he's on the verge of losing it. He's been staying at my flat, but I'm ready to move him out. He never did finish secondary school once he got out of the detention center. He tried to sneak friends over, potheads, I suspect, but I put my foot down on that. They ring often, though and I don't know whether to take their messages or not. Most of them are into drugs and smoking." 

"How awful...I'm so sorry, Aunt Marge," I say. I'd heard that Dudley smokes and has used drugs, which I suspect started in high school. I remember when I still lived there, at around the summer after my fourth year at Hogwarts, I'd hear Dudley stumble in drunk or high and lay fearfully quiet, hoping he wouldn't barge into my room. "You know...since Dudley is legally an adult, you can go to court to have him evicted." 

"So, where would he go...?" 

"I know it's hard, but I think that's the only way he'll learn to make a living," I say with more confidence than I actually feel. "You say he has friends, even if some of them are into dope, right?" Marge nods. 

"Let him stay with some of them," I tell her. "There's always social services and they can help him as well. He has to struggle some, Marge. As we both know, the world isn't an easy place and the only way to survive it is to be strong and resourceful." 

Marge nods, seeming deep in thought. "And if he has a tantrum, just tell him that he's an adult and is too old to be mooching off you or throwing tantrums." I add. 

I do remember leafing through a book in the library recently, a wonderful book about raising responsible resourceful kids by an American author and it had some very good tips. It will be a long time before I have a child of my own, but I do hope I can use the pointers from that book when the time comes. 

I promised myself long ago that no child of mine would be a spoiled wreck like Dudley. The world is not as easy place and I know now that Vernon and Petunia did their son a grave injustice by making him think that it is. 

I smile ruefully as I sip my tea and remember how Dudley had five million PlayStations and in some of his tantrums, he'd throw them out the window. They were very expensive, maybe around two hundred muggle pounds and Petunia would rush out to replace it. 

"What a fine young man you've turned out to be," Marge smiles at me. "So, you're graduating from college in another month. Good for you. You are courageous to rise above the treatment you endured with my brother and sister-in-law." 

We talk more and I tell her a bit about college and the orchestra I'll be part of when I graduate. I even tell her a bit about my Hogwarts years. She tells me about what else has been going on in her life. 

"I think it was the Hogwarts teachers and my friends there who helped me pull through until I got to live with Aunt Miranda." I finish my tea. 

It's getting late, so Marge and I stand up, hug, then head back to our respective places, exchanging numbers and e-mails. I then head upstairs after one last hug and a promise to keep in touch, then I head upstairs to bed. I write my aunt Miranda, my Hogwarts friends, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna, then to Trevor, updating them on what's happened. 

For a long time after I lie down and turn out the lamp, I think of the patterns in my family...Vernon bullying Marge...Petunia browbeating my mum....Dudley cowing me. Dudley obviously learned his behavior from his mum and dad. 

Now Marge had chosen to stop the cycle. Mum sure had the cycle stopped by the time she was fourteen and Petunia eloped with Vernon. I certainly knew enough never to repeat Dudley's behavior. 

It is an interesting pattern, but I'm glad the cycle has been finally broken for good. I, along with Marge, am ready for a new beginning.   
  
  
  
  


_Storyline Copyright 2003 _by **CNJ**


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